


Rock Star Dreams

by DreamsOfSleep



Series: She & Him AU [1]
Category: New Girl
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bands, Alternate Universe - Music, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Backstory, Gen, Parent-Child Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-08 10:38:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7754464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamsOfSleep/pseuds/DreamsOfSleep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Walt was a good dad that was always there and encouraged Nick to pursue his dream of becoming a professional musician.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. For the Love of Music

**Author's Note:**

> This is me just freewriting, messing around with a backstory fic for a different Nick/Jess musician AU I'm planning to write. I'm surprised more fanfic authors haven't dug into the Nick & Walt relationship. It's fun to flip the dynamic and imagine what would have happened if Walt would have stuck around and been a good dad to Nick. I always imagined he would work in some boring corporate job like insurance (the ultimate scam industry :p), but would have pushed Nick to become the guy running into the ocean instead of guarding the wallets.

His dad was the one that taught him to fight for the things you love.

\---

Nick’s very first memory was of sitting in the living room listening to vinyl records with his dad while his dad explained why Elvis was The King. He would never forget the way his dad’s eyes lit up when he listened to those records, no matter how many times he had listened to them before. Even as a kid, Nick knew that anything that would make someone feel that way was something worth holding on to.

\---

His dad got him his first guitar when he was five. His parents couldn’t afford professional lessons so Nick had to figure it all out on his own, but he had loved it all anyway. He played until his fingers bled trying to learn all those Elvis songs his dad loved. Then after he learned Elvis, he devoured all the other genres too: _rock-and-roll and jazz and blues and punk rock._ He even had a weird experimental phase where he was really into ska and reggae. He hated studying for school, but he would spend hours poring over chords and liner notes and lyrics, trying to figure out what that “magic” was that made people feel things through music. It felt really important for him to figure that out. A lot of adults in his life thought music was just a silly hobby for him, “cute little Nicky playing his guitar,” but it had consumed him as much as anything can consume a person at that age. It defined his whole life. His every waking moment was spent breathing it in. 

His dad understood though. They would go down to the record store on Fridays and he would let Nick pick out one new record every week. Anything he wanted, even though money had been tight and they couldn’t really afford it then. Nick never knew until much, much later but his dad would skip lunch so he could have money left over at the end of every week and he could buy Nick all those records he wanted. It was really important to his dad that he _want_ things out of life and he would go to the ends of the Earth to support that. Every morning, his dad would get up to go to work at that insurance job he hated and look at the picture of his wife and son on his desk and think about all the reasons he did it. He had been too afraid to take a chance on anything in his life, always standing on the sidelines watching all those doors of opportunity close behind him as he got older, and he didn’t want Nick to have that same gray life. “Dream big, Nicky,” his dad would always say to him. “Sky’s the limit.”

\---

So as far back as Nick could remember, music had been part of his life. Music was background noise in everyone else’s life, but for Nick, music *was* life. Everything else was the background noise. 

He had been in and out of bands in high school and college. A lot of them were shitty because the other guys in the band were always a lot less serious about music than Nick was. For them, music was about sitting around getting wasted or about getting girls. Nick had to pretend that was what music was for him too, but secretly he really wanted to make _art_. He wanted to make something that would inspire other people and last forever out in the universe after he was gone. He believed that was the closest to immortality as any person could ever hope for, all the best parts of you that would be passed on from generation to generation forever and ever. But it felt lame and pretentious to say that out loud, so he stuck with the first explanation. A lot of the time, Nick would usually be the only one showing up to rehearsal and doing all the gruntwork, hustling to book gigs for all those shitty bands he was in. He might have one or two beers after a show but he avoided the groupies and usually just went straight home where he would sit in his room and obsess about all the little details of their performance, everything that went wrong, everything they could have done better. He would stay up late writing and rewriting new music trying to capture all that sonic energy that was always flowing through his brain, that he could feel running through his whole body at any given moment. Before he went to bed, he would put on one of his favorite records and drift off to sleep dreaming about what it would be like if he could actually make a living playing music, instead of having to get a day job like everyone else. 


	2. Big Break

The most successful band Nick had ever been in was called Leap of Faith. He formed it in college with some guys he knew from high school: Sam, Schmidt, and Winston. Sam was their lead singer, Nick played lead guitar, Schmidt played bass guitar and the keyboards, Winston held his own on the drums. Nick wrote all their music. By the time he was in college, Nick had been burned by so many bands that he no longer put any serious thought into becoming a real musician. It just faded away into a distant dream he once had when he was a kid, something that was nice to think about but could never really come true. So initially Leap of Faith had just been a way for a bunch of college guys to blow off steam, but the first time they played together, there had been something there that he hadn't felt in any of the other numerous bands he had been in before. Nick felt that special, elusive “magic,” that same magic he felt flowing through all those great classic bands he listened to that made people still want to listen to them decades after the musicians were dead and gone. They began landing consistent gigs playing college bars and before long they built up a small, loyal fanbase. Nick started dreaming about becoming a musician again. 

\---

One night they played a show where a talent scout had been in the audience and they got an offer for a record deal. The record company wanted the copyrights and publishing rights to all their songs though and Nick wasn’t having that. They were _his_ songs so he couldn’t have some record company go slapping them on some stupid car commercial or using them to sell diet pills. Sam said that was just the way the music business worked and they needed to accept that if they wanted to be successful. Nick called him a sell-out and then he and Sam had gotten into a big fight backstage. Nick said if Sam took the deal, he was quitting the band. Sam said that was fine and they would do it without him. Schmidt and Winston had stood uncomfortably in between them, trying to remain loyal to both their friends. They both thought Sam was probably right about the music business but they didn’t want to take the deal without Nick either. Schmidt and Winston whispered to each other in the corner of the stage before turning back to Nick and Sam. 

“We’re out,” Schmidt said. “If we can’t keep the whole band together, we don’t want to play at all.”

“You guys are idiots,” Sam scoffed, looking at them with contempt. “Isn’t this what we wanted? Everything we worked so hard for playing all these shitty gigs for drunk college kids? A freaking _record deal _, you guys. How many bands actually get those? We can get paid to do this for a living.” Sam let out a large sigh of frustration. “I’ll do it on my own. He probably came to see me anyway. I *am* the lead singer of this band. No one cares about the backup musicians if they can get the lead singer.”__

Sam stalked off to talk to the talent scout. 

Nick looked at Schmidt and Winston. “Thanks, guys,” he said gratefully. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do it.” He knew he was probably being stupid, but it hadn’t felt right to take the deal. 

Winston shrugged and patted Nick’s back. “Them’s the breaks. We had a good run though, right?”

“The best,” Nick agreed.

So Sam went out there and got a solo record deal and the band had broken up. 


	3. Grown-Up Moves

All the people Nick knew in college graduated and went on to get real jobs, except for Nick. Nick was lost. The only thing he ever wanted to do his entire life was play music and he had gotten the closest he had ever gotten to making that dream come true, but he didn’t want to do it _their_ way, he wanted to do it _his_ way, so it hadn’t worked out. The dream had slipped through his fingers. He had a crisis of identity. He didn’t know if he had made the right choice. Sam was the one that got to live Nick’s dream of being a professional musician when Nick had done all the hard work. He stopped playing music for a while and worked odd jobs for a few years: bartender, waiter, club bouncer, courier. He would still put on a record every night before he went to sleep and feel the music running through him, that obsessive itch to play, but he figured this was just what most people went through. At some point, everyone grows up and gets a boring day job and dreams about the person they could have been. No one really lives their dreams, all the crazy things you imagine you could be as a kid. Nick figured since music didn’t seem like it was going to work out for him, he needed to find a new identity. He was 25. It was time for him to become a real adult and get one of those “serious career paths” everyone around him always seemed to be talking about, so he went to law school.

\---

He spent two long years in law school trying to become a lawyer. It made him miserable but he was too stubborn to quit. This was what he had chosen and he tried to approach it with the same singlemindedness that he had attacked music with when he was younger. It wasn’t the same though. He didn't feel any emotional attachment to it at all. 

He went to all his classes but instead of watching the professors give their lectures and taking notes, he just ended up watching the other law students. They were all smart and ambitious and passionate about what they were studying and Nick tried to figure out what he was missing. He thought that if he just worked hard enough at it, eventually something would ‘click’ and he would wake up one morning and feel like this is who he was always meant to be, that the law would be the new _thing_ that shaped his whole life the way music used to. He pulled all-nighters poring over law books and case studies and countless hours working down at the legal clinic trying to shape himself into a "sharp legal mind.” He took the bar just to prove he could. He even passed it on his first try, but it felt like a pyrrhic victory. He gave law school everything he had and it still felt hollow. He could do the work, but he still couldn’t figure out why he was doing it in the first place. 

It felt like a prison sentence. He was counting down the days until graduation, but he knew when he graduated, he still wouldn't be free. It would just be on to the other prison of being a corporate lawyer for the rest of his life, disappearing into the adult life he was always supposed to have.

\---

His dad would call him every week in law school and Nick would talk to him about what he was learning, about his life. He always tried to be chipper and upbeat, but after he passed the bar, his dad must have heard how miserable he was in his voice. 

“Nicky, you know it’s okay to choose something else, right?” his dad said gently. 

“I’m already halfway done, Dad. I passed the bar. I think I should just stick it out. I mean the only thing I was ever any good at was music and it was just too unstable. That’s not something you can do as a real job; it’s just a hobby. At least I can always get work as a lawyer.”

“Are you happy, Nick?” his dad asked bluntly.

He was silent for a long time, caught between wanting to be honest and wanting to give his dad some half-truth so he wouldn’t worry about him. He went for honesty; he never could lie to his dad. “I’m not happy, Dad,” he admitted. “But I don’t know if it even matters. Aren’t all grownups miserable anyway? Maybe this is just how life is.”

“I hope I didn’t raise you to believe that, Nick,” his dad said seriously.

“I don’t know what to do, Dad. I already spent all this time and money on law school. What else would I do?”

“Sunk-cost fallacy, Nicky. Forget it. Spending thousands of dollars to figure out what you don’t want your life to look like, to not be stuck in something you hate for the rest of your life, is a bargain. Find something to do that you really love, Nicky. Something that makes you actually want to get up in the morning. You have anything like that?”

“Music,” Nick said instinctively. “But I tried that already. It didn’t work out.”

“Might as well give it another try, Nicky. Don’t you miss it?”

“Every single day,” he breathed out.

“Give it another try, Nicky,” his dad repeats. 


	4. Living the Dream

So Nick dropped out of law school and got the band back together. Schmidt and Winston anyway, not that traitor Sam who was probably too rich and famous now to bother with their no-name band anyway. He started writing music again. He wrote two albums’ worth of new material in just three days, all that music he had stored up inside his brain for all the years he had been away from it just pouring out of him.

Nick wasn’t interested in letting someone new into the band so they didn’t have a lead singer to replace Sam. Nick had to fill in for that role, even though he never really liked his voice. He thought he should just play lead guitar again and offered the role of lead singer to Schmidt and Winston, but they said Nick wrote all the songs so it was only right that he should sing them. 

\---

Nick got them their first paying gig at a shitty bar in the middle of nowhere. His dad showed up and surprised him, even though Nick told him not to come. The crowd had been terrible but their set had been amazing. It felt electric to be up on the stage again. He looked out in the audience and saw his dad’s proud face and he had been truly happy that his dad was there to see him and they got to share that moment together. 

\---

He had gone to a diner afterwards with his dad. The adrenaline was still going through him after that show making him talk a mile a minute like he was on speed, all wired up. But when he looked over at his dad, Nick could see how tired he was. His dad still had to drive home and get up early to go to work tomorrow morning. He shouldn’t have come. His parents were getting older and needed someone to take care of them and he was still being an immature kid trying to be a rock star at age 27.

“Maybe I should go back to law school, Dad,” he had blurted out.

“You didn’t have fun tonight, Nicky?” his dad asked him in surprise.

“I did, but maybe I need to go get a real job…We only made 100 bucks tonight.”

His dad could always read him so well. “You don’t have to worry about your mother and me, Nick. I work in insurance. We’re covered.” 

“Maybe I need to grow up, Dad.” 

“Fuck that,” his dad scoffed. “Fuck all these damn rules about how other people tell you about how you should live your life. If you ever think your life isn’t going the way you think it should be going, just ask yourself one question: _Are you happy?_ So I’m asking you now, did going up there and playing that show make you happier than all that time you spent in law school forcing yourself to become a lawyer?” 

“Yeah…the happiest I’ve been in a long time,” he replied honestly, sincerely. 

“Then that’s what you should do…forget the rest of it. Just be happy, Nick. If you’re lucky and you can find that one thing in life that makes you happy, hang on to that. You can figure out the rest of it. Take a chance on something, Nick. Take a chance on yourself. I believe in you. That’s all I want for you out of life. To be happy.” 

Nick couldn’t help getting emotional at that. He had come over to his dad’s side of the booth and given him a big bear hug. “Thanks, Dad.” 

“Just let yourself be happy, Nick,” his dad whispered to him, his arms wrapping around his son, patting his back comfortingly, his warm, stable presence surrounding him. 

\---

His dad was always his biggest fan.

When one of his songs charted at #20, his dad sent him a copy of the billboard listings with the note: _To my son, the rock star: Try and remember your old dad when you’re rich and famous and living in your mansion. – Love, Dad_

His dad kept a framed copy of the billboard listings on his desk at work and told everyone about his son the famous musician, when they told him all about their kids who were doctors and lawyers and corporate executives, even though Nick’s band still mostly played shitty venues and clubs and Nick had to work second jobs when he couldn’t make rent playing gigs.

\---

It felt like things were finally coming together for Nick. He was still a struggling musician, but he was happy because he rediscovered everything he loved about music that he had forgotten about when the band had broken up the first time. Through a stroke of luck, some of their old diehard fans from their college days started requesting their new songs on local independent radio stations and "Earthbound Angel" got picked up into their regular rotations. Their little song that could sitting pretty alongside all the other hits manufactured by the indie divisions of big record companies. Riding the wave of radio fame, they started booking consistent paying gigs in better venues and clubs where people actually came out to hear their band instead of coming out just to get drunk and heckle or boo whoever came out on stage. A couple months after “Earthbound Angel” charted at #20, Nick actually paid rent for the first time without having to work a second job. The shows just kept getting bigger and bigger from there and Nick felt like he was in some crazy, wonderful dream flying to the moon and touching the stars.


	5. Heartbreak

Then his dad had a heart attack right before their band had to play the biggest show they had ever booked.

Nick remembers that he had been standing backstage peeking out behind the curtain at the massive crowd feeling that jittery, nervous excitement he always felt before a show. He had left his phone at his apartment but Schmidt had tapped him on the shoulder and handed him his. “It’s your mom, Nick. She said she couldn’t reach you and it’s really important.”

He had taken the phone and walked offstage to an empty hallway, away from the roar of the crowd.

“Hey, Ma. Sorry, I forgot my phone. We’re just about to go on. What’s up?”

“Nicky, it’s your father.” Her voice had been tight like she had been crying.

He felt his own chest constrict. “What’s wrong? What happened to Dad?”

“He had a heart attack.”

He felt his own heart stop. “But…he’s going to be fine, right? You’re in the hospital? Can you put him on?”

“I’m sorry, Nicky. He’s gone.”

The world stopped and stood still. His mind ran through the words but they didn’t make sense. He couldn’t be gone. Nick had just spoken to him yesterday. He even remembers the last thing they said to each other. They always ended phone conversations the same way.

_Are you happy, Nick?_

_I’m happy, Dad. Love you. Talk to you soon._

“…Nicky?” his mom said uncertainly. He hadn’t spoken for several minutes.

The stage manager popped his head into the hallway and gave him the signal for five minutes until stage time. His rational brain jumped into action. 

“I’m going to come home, Ma. I’ll catch the next flight out tonight. Don’t worry about anything. I’ll take care of all of it when I get there. Just try and get some sleep. I have to go, but I love you. See you soon.”

His rational brain shut off again after he hung up. Schmidt came into the hallway and found him there frozen holding the phone in his hand. Schmidt took one look at his face and knew something terrible had happened. “What’s wrong, Nick?”

“My dad died,” he said in a flat voice devoid of emotion. His body went into autopilot, walking back on stage. Schmidt followed him, calling out his name, “Nick. Nick, stop.” But it was like he was in a trance. He opened his case, took out his guitar, and started tuning up. Schmidt reached a hand out to grasp the neck of his guitar to get him to stop moving and Nick’s attention snapped up to Schmidt’s face.

“We don’t have to do this, Nick. You can just take the night off. We can reschedule the show. People would understand. Your dad just died.”

Nick looked into Schmidt’s concerned face. He thought about what his dad would have wanted him to do and about how they were already there and he didn’t want to let all those people down that came out just to see their band.

“No, let’s do it, Schmidt. I want to do it.”

\---

He had been running on autopilot playing the songs. Schmidt and Winston kept shooting him concerned looks because his voice sounded more raw and angry and desperate than it ever did before in all the shows they had ever played. When they got to “Earthbound Angel” in their setlist, he shook his head at Schmidt and Winston. He thought about the framed billboard listings on his dad’s desk at work. He definitely couldn’t play *that* tonight out of all nights. Schmidt and Winston hesitated. They looked at each other and then looked back over at Nick, uncertain if they should just skip on to the next song in their setlist, but then Nick started playing an impromptu cover of Fleetwood Mac’s “Landslide” instead and they just stepped back and let him do it. It didn’t fit in with any of their other songs, but the crowd was unusually quiet like it was holding its breath, feeling like there was something significant happening on stage. While he was playing and singing those familiar words, Nick thought about all those shows his dad showed up to just to surprise him and how he would never look out and see him in the crowd ever again. After he played the last chord of the song, he started hyperventilating and had to step off stage briefly to pull himself together. But then they all came back out and continued on with their planned setlist like nothing had happened.

\---

They must have done good in spite of everything though because they got asked to do an encore. The roar of the crowd had been deafening but it didn’t even feel good like it usually did. For the entire show, it felt like Nick was watching himself on stage from the third person.

Afterwards, he sat in his dressing room and he couldn’t feel anything but he didn’t feel like playing music ever again. 


End file.
